


Claiming Her Place

by Miss_M



Category: Ready or Not (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, F/M, Family, First Kiss, Humor, Implied/Referenced Incest, Pegging, Ritual Public Sex, Sexual Content, Spin the Bottle, Strap-Ons, Weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 09:28:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26849692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_M/pseuds/Miss_M
Summary: “Whenever someone new joins the family, we play a game of spin the bottle, and then the bride or groom has sex on this table with whoever is ‘it,’ while everyone else watches,” Grace recited, stressing thewe, because she too was now a Le Domas.
Relationships: Daniel Le Domas/Grace Le Domas
Comments: 16
Kudos: 46
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	Claiming Her Place

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing.

“Alex explained everything already?” Grace’s brand-spanking-new father-in-law sounded miffed.

Grace nodded, trying to keep a straight face. Truth be told, she was nervous as hell, her stomach an absolute knot, but a part of her had understood as soon as Alex had told her. One of Grace’s foster families had insisted on no shoes in the house. Another liked to take their pants off after Christmas dinner and watch old movies in just socks, long johns, and Christmas sweaters – everyone, even the blue-haired grandma. All families had their own weird little ways of doing things, and Grace _really_ wanted into this family.

“Whenever someone new joins the family, we play a game of spin the bottle, and then the bride or groom has sex on this table with whoever is ‘it,’ while everyone else watches,” Grace recited, stressing the _we_ , because she too was now a Le Domas. She laid both palms flat on the table to show she wasn’t intimidated in the least and definitely didn’t want to laugh at the scenario she’d just described.

It helped to know that she’d be the one having sex with someone rather than the other way around. If she could call the shots and control what happened, she’d be fine. She glanced around the ornate table. The older Le Domases were all looking at her (Tony still annoyed, Becky looking proud, Helene glowering judgmentally – oh _god_ , Grace hoped it wouldn’t be Helene), while the reactions of the younger family members were more varied. Fitch was smirking at her ( _ditto, god, please don’t let it be Fitch, the smug jerk_ ), sweet, coked-up Emilie stared off into space, and Charity assessed Grace, unblinking and giving off a real mean-girl vibe. Daniel’s head was tipped back, his eyes closed, his throat working while he downed another scotch.

Alex was motionless where he sat on Grace’s right, his eyes trained on the surface of the table. Like a little boy getting scolded. Suddenly Grace wondered what happened if her husband was _it_. Would that even count, or would she need to spin the bottle again? On balance, she decided she could live with fucking one of her in-laws while Alex watched more easily than she could live with fucking Alex while his entire family watched. Grace was sure this said something about her, but she’d sit with that thought later. She wiped her sweaty palms on her tulle skirt under the table. 

Tony’s voice interrupted her ruminations: “Well, that’s very economical of you, Alex. I rather enjoy telling the story of how great-grandfather and Mr. Le Bail whiled away the long hours at sea playing this game with the other seamen.”

 _He said_ seamen. Grace bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing out loud. She really was more nervous than she wanted to admit. She took a swig from her champagne flute. 

“I got Helene,” Charity volunteered. “It was fine.” Her tone suggested otherwise. Grace refused to check Helene’s expression. 

Fitch, sitting on Grace’s left, nudged her. “I got Becky,” he grinned. “It was _awesome_.”

Emilie smiled inanely, while Becky took a sip of her champagne. “I’ve never liked you, Fitch. You know that, right?” she told her son-in-law in her sweet Southern voice. 

Tony remained standing in his spot across from Grace and gestured with both arms, like a concert master, and the other Le Domases rose from their chairs. Alex, Becky, Helene, Charity, and Emilie stood up smoothly, well-practiced, while Daniel staggered upright with a long-suffering sigh, and Fitch muttered “oh right” and stood up a second after everyone else, his chair legs screeching across the marble floor, earning him an even more than usually murderous look from Helene. Each Le Domas took two of the burning candles from the center of the table and moved them to side tables, mantelpieces, and sconces around the edges of the room. 

As the flickering candlelight filled the room, the shadows which had clustered around the table retreated to the corners. _The better to see the show_ , Grace thought. While the room grew brighter, the night outside the big bay window seemed deeper and thicker than before, inky-black, so that anyone looking in from outside would see everything while remaining hidden themselves. Grace sure hoped the household staff didn’t make a habit of walking in the grounds at night.

She was still sitting when the Le Domases returned to the table and remained standing, watching her with different degrees of expectation. 

_Oh right._ She stood up, gathering her skirts so they wouldn’t get caught under the chair legs.

Tony produced a full, sealed champagne bottle and passed it around the table, till it reached Grace. It was heavy and chilled. She glanced down at the label: French and fucking ancient. Of course. 

“Well, my dear,” Tony said, training one of his quasi-benevolent smiles on Grace. “It is time.”

She smiled widely, trying to reassure both herself and them. “Okay. Great.”

She leaned as far as she could over the table, its sharp edge biting into her thighs through her wedding dress, and placed the bottle sideways in the center, where the candles had stood. Her muscles already tensing to spin the bottle, she hoped she didn’t get the physics of this wrong: a large, full bottle would behave differently than the empty beer bottles Grace was used to from high-school parties. She really didn’t want to start her married life by spilling holy-shit expensive champagne all over her in-laws and possibly maiming some of them with broken glass. 

All eyes on it, the bottle spun very fast and with a scrape of old glass against inlaid wood. Rotating, it drifted toward the edge of the table. _Fuck_ , Grace thought, but it slowed down as it turned, half spinning and half rolling across the tabletop, until finally it stopped, its corked neck pointing straight at… Daniel.

Grace’s gaze followed the bottle like a pointing finger, then up Daniel’s body to his face. He stared at the bottle before he slowly met her gaze. 

“Well fuck,” he deadpanned. 

A ripple went around the table, people shifting their posture, rustling their clothes, lips smacking, tiny sighs. The colosseum crowd waiting for the Christians to meet the lions. 

Grace hadn’t even noticed Becky move from her spot, nearly screamed when Becky touched her arm. “This is for you, sweetheart,” Becky said, offering Grace an oblong box of carved, dark wood.

Grace tried to smile in response and opened the box, anticipating what she’d find inside.

The dildo was definitely an antique: queasily realistic, about eight inches long and thick too, to the touch it felt like it had been made of natural leather, very soft, very smooth, very pale. Grace tried not to think about what other use it had been put to, or how they cleaned it. The long straps that would tie around Grace’s waist and upper thighs were leather too, but black. The strap-on had a round, slightly elongated nub at the end opposite the one that would go inside Daniel. 

Grace’s clit throbbed at the thought of that nub stroking her while she… She glanced across the table, to where Daniel handed his jacket to his father and started untying his bowtie, not looking at her. Alex sat in an armchair behind his brother and father, staring at his feet and drinking scotch. 

Becky squeezed Grace’s upper arms gently. “I know you’ll do fine. I had to mount Tony’s late father, who was not a very pleasant man. Terrible halitosis. On the mortification scale, a brother is better than a father, believe me.”

Grace swallowed. “Thank you,” she said and meant it. Everything about this scene weirded her out, but Becky’s kindness was real. “Um, do I need to be naked for this?” 

Her wedding dress was a dream, but Grace couldn’t imagine doing anything on top of the antique table in all those yards of tulle and the tight lace bodice. On the other hand, she wasn’t sure she wanted the Le Domases to see absolutely all of her. The line may have been arbitrary, but she needed to draw one somewhere, and despite congratulating herself for rolling with this family initiation ritual, she’d forgotten to ask Alex a bunch of important logistical questions. 

“No, you don’t have to be naked,” Becky assured her. “But you don’t want to spoil your dress, that’s a memento you might want to pass on to your daughter one day. You can keep your bra on, and I can lend you one of my slips, if you’d rather be covered downstairs.”

Helene materialized beside them. “When my late husband joined the family, he and Tony rutted as was intended, bare as beach pebbles,” she declared in her grand way. She glared at Becky. “ _You_ were the one who introduced all this squeamishness into the family.”

Becky scoffed. Grace stared at Helene, then turned to Becky and said firmly: “I would love to borrow a slip, please.” She raised her voice. “Hey, Emilie?”

Emilie had been staring open-mouthed at Daniel, who had taken off his shirt and suspenders and was unbuttoning his pants. She jerked like she’d been electrocuted and looked around wildly. “Yes?”

“Come help me unbutton my dress,” Grace said. 

Emilie clapped her hands, grinning. “Oh goodie!”

Grace focused on every little task as it came to her: making sure Emilie didn’t rip the lace in her eagerness to help and that no one stepped on the long white skirt; peeling herself out of the dress and shrugging into the cream silk slip Becky handed her; taking her panties off under the slip and hiding them under her discarded dress – laid out on a sofa so it wouldn’t wrinkle – because suddenly it really mattered to Grace that only Alex knew she liked animal-print underwear. 

She kept her eyes on what she was doing so she wouldn’t have to look around the room, at the Le Domases milling around, topping up their drinks, drifting back to their places around the table – so she wouldn’t have to look at Daniel, until she did. 

Grace accepted Becky’s proffered hand and clung to it as she climbed up onto the table, holding the carved box in her other hand. Then she let go of Becky’s hand, almost pushed it away. She had to do this herself, with Daniel, who ignored his father’s and Fitch’s hands and hoisted himself onto the tabletop, still in his boxer shorts.

They stood on the table, facing each other in their underwear, feeling the others staring up at them (Grace saw Alex out of the corner of her eye, blinked and decided to pretend he wasn’t there). Daniel watched Grace’s face, gestured to the dildo box she clutched to her chest. 

“Let me help you with that,” he said. 

Grace didn’t move, so he reached out and took the box from her, his hands brushing hers. He opened the box, took out the dildo, looping the black leather straps around his arm so they wouldn’t drag on the table, handed the box down to his aunt, so intent on these simple tasks that his eyes never once fell on any part of Grace’s body or her face.

“Daniel,” she said. His name seemed to echo in the large, candlelit room.

His eyes on Grace’s thighs, on the hem of her slip ( _his mother’s slip_ ), he gestured with his free hand. “Let’s lift this up a little.”

“Daniel.”

He looked her in the eye. “You don’t have to do this either, you know.”

Helene twitched violently and Tony started to clear his throat, but Becky shushed them. 

Grace’s heart beat really hard while she stood there, in the eye of the storm, watching Daniel watch her. “I’m okay,” she said at last. “Are you okay?”

His eyes flickered down her body. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Come on, up and at ‘em.”

He took the end of her slip between his thumb and forefinger. Grace felt the slight current of air displaced by his hand on her thigh, but not his touch. Her heart thumped. She pulled up the slip, knowing that everyone could see her butt and crotch but not really caring. 

Grace closed her eyes and placed her hands on Daniel’s shoulders for balance while he tied the straps around her lower body, his hands brushing between her thighs, around her waist. He settled the dildo against Grace’s crotch like it was nothing, like he’d put a cushion on her lap. Grace’s breath shuddered in her throat, and she could hear all the tiny sounds made by the other Le Domases around them. Daniel was half crouching in front of Grace, his breath warm on her left breast. She felt her nipple peak, wondered if he was looking at it but didn’t dare open her eyes and check till he tightened the last knot, pulled the slip down to cover her, and stood up, as close to her as if they were slow dancing, her hands still on his shoulders, his skin warm and smooth under her palms. 

Grace opened her eyes and Daniel’s face was right there, a little flushed. She wondered how much he’d had to drink, and would he be able to get hard, and would it count if he couldn’t. She wanted him to enjoy this; she wanted herself to enjoy this; she accepted this and decided to kiss him, right there, in front of everyone. No one had said that was against the rules of this game – hell, spin the bottle was usually all about kissing – and she was going to have to have some awkward discussions with Alex about all this anyway.

Grace leaned in, Daniel parted his lips, and Emilie spoke up: “Grace, here.”

Grace experienced a sudden, crystal-sharp desire to stab Emilie in the neck with a champagne flute, which she quickly suppressed as Emilie held out a pink, sparkly container about the length of her middle finger. “To, _you know_ , ease the way,” Emilie stage-whispered.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Charity exclaimed. “That’s mace. I gave it to you as a stocking stuffer last Yule.”

Emilie looked at the pink item in her hand and pulled a face. “Drat.”

Fitch laughed. Tony rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. Becky patted Emilie on the arm distractedly. Grace wondered if anyone could really be so pretentious as to call Christmas _Yule_.

“Here.” Charity rummaged in her Chanel purse, held out a small plastic bottle half-full of electric-blue gel to Grace. “It’s not his first time.” Another woman might have smirked possessively, but Charity’s face was its usual stony self. 

After a brief hesitation, Grace took the lube from Daniel’s wife, while Daniel sighed and shook his head, still so close to her. “Uh, thanks,” Grace said. 

“You have no respect for tradition!” Helene thundered, staring daggers all around the table and up at the couple on top of it. “Use spit, girl, if you must make it pleasant.”

“Oh no, not pleasant,” Daniel told no one in particular, but then he caught Grace’s eye and half-smiled. “We wouldn’t want that.”

Grace grinned in response, wrapped her arm around him, and pulled him closer, the dildo nudging him, startling them both. 

“Out of respect for tradition, you want to get down on your knees for me?” Grace said, aiming for flirtatious and hoping she’d land on _ha ha this is so weird but we’re in this together, please for the love of everything don’t make me have to watch your face while we do this, that might just tip me over the edge._

“Look at you, all eager,” Daniel said in his usual dry tone, but Grace felt reassured anyway. 

As for _eager_ , yeah she was, she hadn’t realized quite how much till Daniel turned his back on her, and got down on his knees on the tabletop, muttering about how _tradition_ must not have allowed for some sofa cushions to be added to the arrangement, and pushed his boxer shorts down to his knees, then leaned forward and rested his weight on his hands, his back arched, his ass offered up to her.

Saliva flooded Grace’s mouth. For a moment, she wanted to sink her teeth into Daniel like he was an apple, then she got down on her knees behind him, the dildo jutting out in front of her, her slip riding up her thighs with the movement. Daniel was right about the lack of padding, but Grace decided to ignore the twinge in her knees. She squeezed some of the blue lube onto her fingers, then reached slowly between Daniel’s thighs, up between his butt cheeks.

“Open,” she said, nudging him with her slick fingertips, and he parted his legs more, and Grace felt her heart, her stomach, her clit all thump, twist, throb together. _Yes_ , her body seemed to be whispering. _Yeeeeeees. This. It always should’ve been this._

She circled, feeling the whorled skin, the tight muscle, then she pushed her forefinger inside, feeling Daniel clench then will himself to relax. His head hung low, so all Grace could see of him was his long back, his thighs, his ass getting drilled by her finger. He gave a low moan, cut it short, like he didn’t want to show his entire family he liked this. Tony and Becky stood directly across from Grace, right in front of Daniel. Helene, Charity, and Alex were on their right, Emilie and Fitch on their left. Everyone was watching the show in solemn silence except Alex, who watched the patch of empty tabletop next to Daniel’s right hand. 

Grace decided she would only pay attention to Daniel and to her own body and sensations. She couldn’t take in all the currents running through this situation, and she didn’t want to. This was _their_ tradition, the only thing she could control was how it would go for her and Daniel. She added more lube to her fingers and held on to Daniel’s hip with her free hand while she fingered him, two fingers in now, twisting her hand so her thumb brushed his balls, which tightened under her touch. Daniel panted softly and started to move his hips in minute jerks, pushing back against her hand, taking her fingers till her hand was pressed flush to his ass. Grace kept thumbing the seam on his ball sack. 

“Oh wow,” Emilie breathed. 

Helene made a furious noise, and Fitch put down his drink so he could throw his arm around his wife in an approximate hybrid of a hug and a headlock, and clapped his hand over her mouth. Emilie struggled briefly, but Fitch held on and she settled down. Silence descended again, save for the flickering candle flames and Daniel’s heavy breathing and the occasional groan of the old table as Daniel and Grace shifted around on top of it.

Despite Charity’s quip, Daniel was _tight_ , and Grace thought it really unfair that she wouldn’t be able to feel him squeezing onto her cock. She moved her other hand from Daniel’s hip to the dildo and fisted it a few times, banging her clit with the cunning nub on the end of it, already clenching in anticipation. 

“Daniel…” Grace said, watching her hand fuck him, feeling his muscles grip her fingers, jilling herself.

“Yeah, come on,” he breathed. His head still down, his voice already far gone.

Grace pulled her fingers slowly out of him, squeezed all the remaining lube onto her palm, and slicked down the dildo, thinking that it really felt super real, seeming to warm up and throb in her fist. She jacked it a bit more, then she gripped the dildo as best she could – that _did_ require a bit of finesse when it was her own dick – and leaned in with her whole body, watching the realistic head disappear up Daniel’s backside, the veined length of it stretch Daniel as she pushed in.

Grace grabbed Daniel’s hips with both hands and yanked him into her even as she thrust hard, filling him completely, her pelvis and thighs slapping against his ass with a sound like a pair of giant lips smacking, just the end of the dildo visible in the sliver of space between them. She knew she probably should’ve been more gentle, but _goddamn_ she wanted to wreck Daniel, she wanted him to not be able to sit for a week.

Daniel groaned like she’d stabbed him, and Grace swallowed the laugh at where her mind had gone. She knew the dildo wasn’t a part of her, she knew this was her brain tricking her, but it felt real, it felt good, Daniel’s muscles gripping the full length of her dick inside him, his ass squeezing around the root of her shaft, the insides of her thighs wet and her clit throbbing, wanting, wanting more. 

Grace started with shallow thrusts, but soon she gave in to her desire completely and leaned back on her heels, so she could watch the dildo slide smoothly in and out, the whole length of it in and out of Daniel’s red, stretched anus. She’d pull almost all the way out, then slam back in, gripping Daniel’s hips, imagining she could see her cock turn flushed and even more engorged as she rode Daniel, the nub nudging her clit and enhancing the illusion that the dildo was really a part of her body. The slick, sucking noise Daniel’s ass made as Grace used him drove her wild. Her nipples were so hard, she regretted keeping her bra on, or the stupid silk slip, _fuck_ she should’ve been as naked as Daniel.

Daniel’s fingers were curled into claws on the tabletop, surely leaving scratches in the ancient lacquer, but his moans were pure want, and his hips moved in exact counterpoint to Grace’s, move apart and meet again, their sweaty flesh slapping together. Daniel sounded like Grace felt, and Grace gave him what they both wanted. Grace hoisted her hips up a little, her knees protesting and her thighs straining, and the change in angle made Daniel cry out and thrust back harder, impaling himself on her, filling Grace with savage joy. She had more inside her. She’d give him more. She snorted with laughter and kept fucking him, sweat rolling down her temples.

Directly in front of the two of them, Tony began to chant. The others, still as ice statues till then save for the soughing of their breaths around the table, took up the chant, multiplied it, a whole musical scale of voices, till it echoed around the chamber and seemed to make the windowpanes rattle, the furniture shudder across the floor, and the candles dance. Emilie smacked Fitch on the arm when he released her, but she joined in the chanting in mid-verse with practiced ease despite her ruffled feathers.

 _Jesus fucking Christ_ , Grace thought, startled out of her wild laugher but her body barely faltering in its steady movement, the rolling, claiming fuck she couldn’t seem to get enough of. _Is that Latin? What the hell…_

She’d ignored the others thus far, but now she glanced around the table. The Le Domases stared back at her, even Alex, and chanted in unison, their arms upraised in a reverential, worshipping gesture, a forest of arms circling the clearing where Grace rode Daniel. Yet even though they were all looking at Daniel and Grace, their eyes seemed glazed over, like they weren’t taking in the live show so much as conjuring up another vision out of the heated air around the rutting couple, something unearthly and fascinating for which the best goddamn fuck of Grace’s life – and, she hoped, Daniel’s too – was just the pretext. 

Grace squeezed her eyes shut and leaned forward and down, till her weight rested on Daniel’s back, her arms wrapped around his torso, his sweat soaking through her slip. His hair tickled her lips as she panted in his ear: “What the fuck, Daniel?”

“Just keep going,” he panted back. “It’s all part of the ritual.” He bucked under her, not like he was trying to throw her off, more like he wanted to get her body moving again. “Please, Grace, I want this.”

Not _I need this_ , or _I have to see this through_. Grace’s fake dick gave a real fucking throb, Daniel moaned like he’d felt it, and Grace thought, _yeah me too_. She hugged Daniel around the waist as tightly as she could with one arm, planted her other hand on his chest, over his heart, and started to pound him from above, her fuck strokes coming hard and fast, just her hips moving while he held still and took it. Daniel’s spine arched under her, he threw his head back and almost broke her nose with the back of his head. His head rested on Grace’s shoulder, and her breath bathed his cheek as she chased her orgasm, the dildo honest to god throbbing inside Daniel. Their groans and cries filled the air and met the thunderous chanting like two armies clashing.

“Grace,” Daniel said, like he was begging her to save his life. “Grace. _Grace_ ,” and fuck it for a cliché, but that was it. 

Grace almost choked as she started to come, her knees screaming, her thighs burning, burying herself inside Daniel and twitching and shuddering all over, his body both her vessel and an extension of hers, the dildo seeming to dry-come. The chanting took on a physical quality, wrapping itself around Grace’s arms and legs and lifting her, so that she floated on the air, bucking on the currents of her absolute monster of an orgasm, until she was boneless and sweating and her lungs burned. She was draped over Daniel and held on for dear life, her arms still wrapped around him. 

Grace licked her lips, rubbed her sweaty cheek on Daniel’s hair, and whispered in his ear: “You need more?”

“Yeah,” he managed. “Yeah, I want more.”

 _Goddamn you_ , Grace thought, furious at him for saying he wanted this repeatedly, for saying her name like that. Even though she really wanted to lie down and maybe take a nap, she made herself keep fucking Daniel while he bucked and panted under her. Feeling guilty for not thinking of this before, Grace slipped her hand down Daniel’s chest, his sweaty stomach, to his cock, which was full and heavy and leaking precome. 

Sweat was dripping down Grace’s face, into her eyes. Blinking it away, she thought for a moment that there were ten people in the room rather than nine: she and Daniel and the seven chanting people surrounding them, and a tall man in a black coat standing by the bay window, watching Grace and Daniel intently – not outside peeking in under cover of night, but inside the candlelit room with the rest of them. 

Grace blinked rapidly, and there was no one by the window, and Daniel was taking her cock, and his stomach muscles contracted hard under her hand, so she focused on that instead. She slicked her hand with precome and jacked him, trying to time her thrusts to the slide of her fist, and in no time at all Daniel was coming all over her hand, all over the priceless fucking tabletop, the noises coming out of his throat ragged, like his vocal cords were shredded. 

The Le Domases’ chanting reached a crescendo till Grace wondered that the chandelier didn’t crash down on all of them, Daniel’s thick come coating her fingers as she kept jacking him. Grace didn’t want to stop, she too wanted more, fucking Daniel through it, throbbing with it, till she noticed a teardrop appear next to the pearly come splatters on the tabletop beneath them, and she let go of Daniel’s cock, still buried inside him but lying still on Daniel’s back and trying to catch her breath. She rested her cheek on the back of Daniel’s neck and hugged him to her, while he heaved deep breaths beneath her, like he didn’t mind supporting her weight.

The chanting stopped.

A dry, cool pair of hands touched Grace’s back and shoulder. “Grace, you can get up now,” Becky said. “You did so well, sweetheart.”

Grace twitched, hating her mother-in-law’s hands on her, hating her syrupy voice and her breath stirring Grace’s hair and her praising Grace but not her own son. 

Becky removed her hands at once, her voice moving away when next she spoke: “Alright, come on, y’all, let’s give them some space. Grace, Daniel – Stevens will bring you towels and hot tea in a minute. Join us in the library when you’re ready and we’ll pop open that champagne you spun, Grace.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Daniel said very quietly without moving from his position under Grace. Then he started laughing, his whole body shaking with it, rattling Grace’s teeth and making her giggle too. 

The big double doors whispered shut while they were laughing.

After she’d caught her breath and calmed down some, Grace wiped her sweaty face with her sweaty hand, which didn’t do any good, and said: “I’m gonna get off you now. Try and catch me if I lose my balance and fall off this table, okay?”

“You’re trusting the family drunk to catch you,” Daniel pointed out while Grace braced herself and pushed up and off him, his breath catching a little when the dildo slipped out of him but his quip continuing undeterred. “Poor misguided sheep.”

“Hey!” Grace flopped down on her back next to him, not even caring that the table was hard and cold under her overheated skin, the soaked slip clinging to her, the dildo jutting straight up from her crotch, inanimate again. She’d never felt more tired in her life. “This sheep just fucked your brains out, so watch your mouth, mister.”

Daniel rolled to his side, wincing as his knees got some relief, his boxer shorts still down around his knees before he kicked them off and lay down next to Grace, watching her. “Yeah,” he said. “You sure did. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Grace’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that a complaint or a compliment?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Hell of a way to find out.”

Grace thought back to her last minor hallucination in an evening that seemed full of them: the man in black watching her fuck Daniel, seeming to give her the tiniest nod of approval before Grace blinked him back into nonexistence. She still wanted to know what the chanting had been all about, but she was too drained to worry about it now. She rolled her head from side to side on the tabletop, feeling the hard surface dig into her skull, and wiped her sticky hand on Becky’s expensive silk slip.

“How long before Stevens barges in?” she asked.

Daniel pretended to consult his bare wrist. “Two minutes, tops.”

“Okay.” Grace rubbed her fingertips together, the last of Daniel’s come flaking off, before she laid her hand on Daniel’s cheek. His beard rasped under her thumb as she caressed him. “Then you’d better kiss me now, if you were planning to.”

Daniel blew out a long breath, nodded. “I guess I’d better.”

As he leaned in and kissed her, there on the inlaid tabletop, Grace still wearing the dildo, their first kiss just as sweet and tender as their rutting had been savage, Grace told herself it would have been fine either way. He could have _not_ kissed her, and she’d have been fine. Her new family was waiting for them, and Alex and she would need to have a conversation about all this, and it would be fine. The only reason her heart was still hammering in her chest was the aftermath of her orgasm, that was all. 

Grace opened her mouth, teased Daniel with the tip of her tongue, sighed into his mouth as he took her cue and deepened the kiss, and knew that she was and always had been a terrible liar.


End file.
